In the middle of the last decade, Kathy and I went to Dracut MA to visit Shirley, a friend of Kathy's. I remember it being the middle of summer and quite warm during the day, but cool at night. We slept with the windows open. I remember a cat spending the night jumping up onto the couch-bed on which we were sleeping.
While there, we drove to the Boston suburbs and took the transit into the city.
In a place called North End, we found a historic cemetery. The cemetery is on the top of a hill and slopes down on all sides. On one end, the area is flush up to some buildings. From the top of the hill, we could see a historic ship in a harbor not too far away.
It was surrounded by a stone wall several feet high which held back dirt on the inside but was a barrier on the outside. The wall was topped by a heavy iron fence. A formidable barrier to entering or leaving. We entered through a gate.
As we entered we saw a tall man dressed in what appeared to be a Colonial style frock coat, speaking to a small group.
For what seemed like an hour, we wandered around, reading gravestones and historical markers.
When we went to leave, the gate was locked with a padlock. Were we younger we might have climbed the fence.
Kat had her cell phone. She called 911. Because it was an out-of-state phone, the call was directed to the state police 911 center.
We were unable to get them to understand we were in a historic cemetery in the North End of Boston. They transferred us to the MA Parks Department. The person there laughed, told us to hang up, call 911 again and just tel them we had an emergency and were in the city of Boston. They implied the state operators were a little s-l-o-w.
We did and the city dispatched the fire department.
We had passed the fire station on our way from the transit stop to the cemetery. Guys had been sitting out front on chairs killing time on a slow day.
So when a ladder and pumper showed up we figured they were bored and had an excuse to leave the station. They were laughing at the great enterprise they were engaged in - two women and a man locked in a cemetery. They talked about using a ladder or maybe just cut the lock.
Just as they were about to use the bolt cutters, a short, heavyset woman in Pilgrim costume ran up the hill shouting "Don't cut the lock, I have the key," repeating several times. The firemen, stopped and waited for her to get to the gate, completely out of breath.
On the way back, we stopped for some ice cream. While eating the cones and checking the menus of the Italian restaurants in the area, we worked our way back to the transit.
We passed the fire station again. The guys were back outside and we endured ribbing about our adventure.
Saturday, February 26, 2011
Monday, February 21, 2011
Sunday, February 20, 2011
remarks at the funeral of William Trimpe by his son Mike
As Catholics we believe my father is most probably in heaven because he received the sacrament of the Anointing of the Sick 2 weeks before his death. Nevertheless we have a kneeler in front of the casket to pray for his soul. I don’t think any of us are ready to see the face of God until our souls are purged of all stain of sin.
Our father taught us so many things by the way he lived. I never saw him preach or stand up in front of people and give a speech, but as St. Francis said preach the Gospel always and if you must – use words. He just always did the right thing.
He fought for our freedom in WWII and received a silver star, a couple of bronze stars and a purple heart. He was brave, courageous, and strong – he taught us to fight for the underdog and never be afraid to stand up to anyone for what is right.
He had impeccable honesty and integrity. He was in charge of church money for I don’t know how many years. If there was a church event – he was counting the money.
He worked at the [First National Bank of Cincinnati] bank for 43 years and taught us loyalty to family, friends, and employers. He showed us how to live within your means, be frugal, and save for the future. At the same time he showed us how to have fun and be generous to others.
He taught us how to be the perfect host. You all know how welcome you were when you visited his home. He taught us how to care for the sick. He took care of his sisters Vera and Emma when they needed help. He brought our Aunt Margaret into his home in her final days, and he cared for my mother in her last years of Alzheimer’s disease with unbelievable patience and love. And as you know patience was not one of his best virtues. He taught us to be prompt. Anyone ever see him do this? [looks at watch and taps]
He taught us how to love as a husband, father, and brother. He adored our mother and it was a common sight in our household to see him hug and kiss her. We learned the meaning of unconditional love and the marriage covenant from them.
He taught me how to play golf, and how to compete and how to win on the first tee, as well as how to lose like a gentleman.
So he taught us how to live, but then taught us how to die. He used to love to play the stock market – then it crashed a couple years ago. He used to say as long as I can play golf I am happy – if not, I don’t think I want to live anymore. When his health was such that he couldn’t play golf anymore – then it was as long as I live here in sunny warm Florida I am happy – but his health forced him to move back home with Eileen for the last 6 months. But as long as I have happy hour and can play cards and watch baseball and golf I am happy. His desire for a drink and his eyesight deteriorated until these things were not with him anymore.
In the end he was happy, gracious, loving, and grateful to have family around him, to feel the soft kiss of a great-grandchild, to squeeze your hand.
We all get caught up in this world and we can make playing stocks, playing golf and other desires as Gods in our lives. But then he taught us Corinthians 13 which says in the end there are three things faith, hope, and love – and the greatest of these is love. Love goes beyond death – Love is eternal.
So we ask two things of you today in honor of our father. One – when you think of him say a prayer for his soul. And two tell someone you love them today, because that will last for all eternity.
Our father taught us so many things by the way he lived. I never saw him preach or stand up in front of people and give a speech, but as St. Francis said preach the Gospel always and if you must – use words. He just always did the right thing.
He fought for our freedom in WWII and received a silver star, a couple of bronze stars and a purple heart. He was brave, courageous, and strong – he taught us to fight for the underdog and never be afraid to stand up to anyone for what is right.
He had impeccable honesty and integrity. He was in charge of church money for I don’t know how many years. If there was a church event – he was counting the money.
He worked at the [First National Bank of Cincinnati] bank for 43 years and taught us loyalty to family, friends, and employers. He showed us how to live within your means, be frugal, and save for the future. At the same time he showed us how to have fun and be generous to others.
He taught us how to be the perfect host. You all know how welcome you were when you visited his home. He taught us how to care for the sick. He took care of his sisters Vera and Emma when they needed help. He brought our Aunt Margaret into his home in her final days, and he cared for my mother in her last years of Alzheimer’s disease with unbelievable patience and love. And as you know patience was not one of his best virtues. He taught us to be prompt. Anyone ever see him do this? [looks at watch and taps]
He taught us how to love as a husband, father, and brother. He adored our mother and it was a common sight in our household to see him hug and kiss her. We learned the meaning of unconditional love and the marriage covenant from them.
He taught me how to play golf, and how to compete and how to win on the first tee, as well as how to lose like a gentleman.
So he taught us how to live, but then taught us how to die. He used to love to play the stock market – then it crashed a couple years ago. He used to say as long as I can play golf I am happy – if not, I don’t think I want to live anymore. When his health was such that he couldn’t play golf anymore – then it was as long as I live here in sunny warm Florida I am happy – but his health forced him to move back home with Eileen for the last 6 months. But as long as I have happy hour and can play cards and watch baseball and golf I am happy. His desire for a drink and his eyesight deteriorated until these things were not with him anymore.
In the end he was happy, gracious, loving, and grateful to have family around him, to feel the soft kiss of a great-grandchild, to squeeze your hand.
We all get caught up in this world and we can make playing stocks, playing golf and other desires as Gods in our lives. But then he taught us Corinthians 13 which says in the end there are three things faith, hope, and love – and the greatest of these is love. Love goes beyond death – Love is eternal.
So we ask two things of you today in honor of our father. One – when you think of him say a prayer for his soul. And two tell someone you love them today, because that will last for all eternity.
Monday, February 7, 2011
Katherine Lubbers Trimpe
- mother of
- Joseph Trimpe
Norbert Trimpe - Gertrude Trimpe
- Emma Trimpe
- Vera Trimpe Kuebbing
- "Bud" Trimpe
- Rita Trimpe Winstel
- William Trimpe
- wife of
- Joseph Trimpe
Trimpe Christmas 1950
From the left front: Andrew Kuebbing w/son T (age 3.5 yrs), Henry Lubbers, Katherine Lubbers Trimpe, R (age 7.5 yrs), Emma Trimpe, (Eileen age 8 mos), (? Bert's mother/Vera Trimpe Kuebbing); left back (?), (?), William Trimpe w/Claire Peeker Trimpe
picture likely taken by Gertrude Trimpe
Gertrude E Trimpe
b.1905Jul17 Covington KY f.Joseph Trimpe m.Katherine Lubbers Trimpe
me.St Mary Ladies Society, Blessed Sacrament
d.1965Jul16 115 Highland Ave, S Ft Mitchell KY
vi.1965Jul18@3-9 Hugenburg & Niemeyer, Covington KY
fu.1965Jul19@9am Blessed Sacrament - Requiem High Mass
in.1965Jul19 St John's Cemetery
me.St Mary Ladies Society, Blessed Sacrament
d.1965Jul16 115 Highland Ave, S Ft Mitchell KY
vi.1965Jul18@3-9 Hugenburg & Niemeyer, Covington KY
fu.1965Jul19@9am Blessed Sacrament - Requiem High Mass
in.1965Jul19 St John's Cemetery
- sister of
- Joseph Trimpe
Norbert Trimpe - Emma Trimpe
- Vera Trimpe Kuebbing
- Edward "Bud" Trimpe
- Rita Trimpe Winstel
- William Trimpe
- owned house on 115 Highland Ave, Ft Mitchell KY, in which initially lived her mother, her sister Emma and her uncle Henry Lubbers, who outlived her
- the house is notable for having a Rookwood Pottery fireplace. In the 2000s, the owner said it had been valued by a collector in the mid 5 figures
- had yearly family gatherings at Thanksgiving and Christmas Eve.
- prolific picture taker
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